Lion Den

Part 2

     Emma looked around, scanning her surroundings. A dark, foreboding tree branch tickled her with its proximity, but she kept going, looking back in a panic every few seconds, avoiding the roots that threatened to trip her. With every step, she felt leaves kiss her with their wet tongues. She didn't care. As torn up as her clothing had been before, it certainly wouldn't be salvageable now, since the branches that cut her face with their merciless blades did even more to her clothes.

    She imagined how her mother would look at her with disapproval, sighing at the tatters her daughter was in. She kept on running. Occasionally she would hear voices shouting. As she heard a twig snap right behind her, she turned around, utter panic and terror flowing through her heart.

    My goose is cooked, she thought. I'm dead. At least, if not now, I'll wish I was. The boy was young, he looked no older than sixteen. Subtly muscular, nervous, with a cold exterior. His confident demeanor was contradicted in his eyes, filled with misery.

    He looked at the girl, his mark, and saw the same deer-in-the-headlights expression that he was sure he was wearing. Unsure, he stopped as she stumbled backward and tripped over a tree root. She scrambled away from him, holding together her tattered shirt.

    "Please, please! I'll do anything you want me to do, just don't kill me! Please don't tell your men that you found me!" The girl was sobbing unabashedly. He looked at her black eye, and his face wrinkled, showing concern. Something in his curious eyes changed. They deepened, showing more empathy.

    He lowered the gun he had pointed at her head. "I'm gonna turn around for one minute. Head start, little lady. Better take it. I'll throw them off of your trail. Run."

    He watched her get up, and she backed away slowly. He turned around and heard the twigs snapping as she ran off. She figured that, if he was lying, there was no loss, but if he was telling the truth, he might've saved her life.

    Emma ended up on a familiar trail through the woods that took her within half a mile of her house. In her relatively safe neighborhood, she wouldn't have to worry about her torn clothing attracting too much unwanted attention. She knew no one would be out at this time of night. It's not like the clothes would attract much attention in this city, anyway.

    Who was that boy? The one who caught up to her, the one with curiously beautiful eyes, like pools of clean ocean water with little hazel rocks surrounding the pupil. He had saved her from, in her opinion, a fate that was worse than death.

    Taking a shortcut through that back alley had seemed like a good idea. She didn't anticipate that there would be a group of thugs. She tried to turn back the other way, but they quickly formed a circle to stop her from escaping. She knew she wasn't strong enough to take on six men, but maybe she was quick enough to make a run for it. One of the thugs had grabbed her by the front of the blouse, tearing off the buttons.

    She quickly jerked away from him. He ripped her shirt, but he also bought her some time to run. Taking the biggest one down with a well-timed kick also didn't hurt.

    She had weaved through various backstreets, always with a predator close behind her. It wasn't until she found the wooded area of the city park that she thought she might have a chance to make it home. If that boy hadn't thrown them off of her trail, she might've never left those woods.

    Reaching her back door as if in a trance, she sneaked up the stairs. She peeked in on her mother's room, seeing the woman out cold. Good, she thought bitterly. I can hide these clothes before she wakes up. Emma turned on her heel and headed towards the bathroom, deciding to take a nice, hot shower.